


Right

by der_tanzer



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-19
Updated: 2010-05-19
Packaged: 2017-10-09 14:04:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/88262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/der_tanzer/pseuds/der_tanzer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everything in Jim's world is wrong when things with his guide aren't right.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Right

Five days after the shooting, five days after Sandburg stepped out of his sight and into a convenience store hold up, Jim took him home. Once there, he came very close to just letting Blair go to bed, but that wasn’t right. Nothing had been right since in his world since his guide was hurt. He’d been off balance, seeing too far, hearing too deep, trying to stay close to Blair’s comforting presence, but not much comforted because Blair himself felt wrong. The hospital smells alone had been unbearable, making him feel as if nothing could be right in that place. Sometimes, sitting by the bed, listening to Blair’s restless breathing and uneven heartbeat, he’d feared nothing would ever be right again.

But today there was hope. Today Blair was home and Jim had a chance to make it normal.

“I don’t want a shower, Jim. Just let me go to bed, please.”

“I—you can’t. It’s not right yet.”

“What? What’s not right?” Blair was leaning against him in the middle of the living room, trembling with the strain of walking so far, and just beginning to realize that something was wrong with his Sentinel, too.

“Everything. You—you’re my touchstone, remember? And when you’re not right, I’m not right.”

“So let me go to bed and get well.”

“No, Chief, you don’t understand. Everything about you is wrong.”

Blair sighed, causing a twinge in his chest that made him want to give in to anything if it would just get him off his feet.

“Okay, what do you need me to do?” he said. It was maybe the first time Jim had ever really asked for his help. Normally it was Blair pushing the Sentinel thing and Jim pushing him away to avoid it.

But five days of Blair in that place, not caring about anything, his enthusiasm so close to being permanently stilled, had opened Jim’s eyes to what he needed. When he’d come to need it, he didn’t know, and it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that he could have it.

“You need to be you,” he said lamely. “You—you don’t smell right, for one thing. You smell like the hospital.”

“You care what I smell like?” Blair asked, vaguely amazed.

“I do when it’s messing up my home environment,” Jim snapped, and was instantly sorry when he heard how it sounded.

“All right, all right, I’ll take a shower. Help me get this shirt off, would you?” He pulled away and started toward his room. Jim caught him when he staggered and walked with him, holding him up with an arm around his waist. In the bedroom, he helped Blair with his shirt, and tried not to touch the bandage on his chest. Quite a bit of him had been shaved for surgery and Jim tried not to see that. It was another thing wrong with the man he’d come to need.

Blair put on his robe, dropped his pants, and let Jim walk him to the bathroom. He was miserable, hurt, and sick from the painkillers, but through his head ran a single refrain. _Jim never asks for anything. Jim never asks for anything._ Except peace and quiet and no towels on the floor, but Blair never gave him those things, so it didn’t count. This, on the other hand, was important.

He let the water soak the tape until it peeled off easily. Washing his hair was kind of a bitch, but Blair knew that it held scent even better than his clothes, and shampooed it three times. Leaning against the wall, he soaped his body and scraped away most of the adhesive residue. His skin was dried out and slightly sticky; if Jim touched him he would notice. What else would bother his sentinel? The sight of the shaved skin, certainly, and the wound itself. But Blair thought the rest would be okay. Unless he sounded different somehow, and he didn’t think he could do anything about that if he did.

He turned off the water and wrapped a towel around his hair, squeezing it impatiently. He was shaking, his body feeling empty and strange, and as he put his robe on, his vision began to blur. It crossed his mind to call for Jim and then the big man was there, catching him before he fell and lifting him in his arms.

“Jim?” he whispered. “How did you—did I…?”

“I heard your heart racing. Come on, you’re going to bed now.”

“Finally,” Blair sighed, and let his head fall against Jim’s shoulder, weak and pitiful, but too much so to even be ashamed. He didn’t notice at first that Jim was taking him upstairs.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his heart trying to flutter and pound at the same time. Jim heard it and moved faster, hurrying to lay him down on the good bed and cover him with warm blankets. “What—what is this?”

“I’ve been a mess since you’ve been gone,” Jim said simply. “You always want to help, you’re always looking for something to study, so take note of this. I need to get grounded and the only way I can do that is through you. I don’t know why or how, I just know it’s true.”

“Okay. Sure, Jim, whatever you need. Just, I’m not feeling so hot right now and I don’t know what I can do.”

“You don’t have to do anything. All I need is for you to be—right. Get comfortable; breathe normally, let your heart slow down. When you’re right, I can be right, too.”

“Oh, I get it. You’re wandering in the wilderness without a guide, sort of. No, that’s—jeez, why didn’t I think of that? All right, we’ll breathe together. Just not too deep, ‘cause I’m not really ready for that yet.” He turned on his left side, to face Jim and take some of the pressure off his injuries.

“You go ahead and breathe,” Jim said, taking off his shoes and jacket and moving around to the other side of the bed. “I already know what I need.”

Blair tried to turn and see what he was doing, but the pain in his chest told him to let it go. His heart started to race again when Jim lay down behind him, pressing his broad chest to Blair’s back and easing him gently into his arms. He rested his chin on top of Blair’s head, pulling the blankets over them both.

“Jim…”

“Just be calm,” he whispered. “Be calm, be you, and let me feel it. Let me listen to you, let me feel you, and everything will be right soon.”

“Yeah? This is right for you?” Not accusing or challenging, just making sure.

“I need to connect, Chief. Things have been wrong for too long. Just be here with me for awhile and I’ll be okay.”

“Yeah, sure. Whatever you need, big guy. I’m going to sleep, though. Hope that’s okay.” He wrapped his hand around Jim’s wrist, holding the arm gently against his ribs, and felt another ounce of his Sentinel’s tension drain away.

“It’s fine.” Jim listened to Blair’s breathing deepen and grow steady, felt his heartbeat slow to its regular rhythm, inhaled the fresh herbal scent of his skin and hair. There was something underneath that, a trace of the medication on his breath, but he would just have to live with that for now. Blair would be well soon. Everything would be right.


End file.
